


Simpatico

by menel



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in the Danger Room, the field leader and the newest X-Man have an unexpected heart-to-heart (with no claws or force beams involved). </p><p>Written for the prompt, "Locked in a room together. (What happens?)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simpatico

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [志趣相投 Simpatico](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961409) by [wheniseeyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniseeyou/pseuds/wheniseeyou)



There was a crash beside him followed by the electrical smell of burning circuitry. Scott Summers turned his head; fingers poised on the trigger of his visor, his line of vision also his line of sight. There was too much smoke to see clearly, much less take aim and firing would only give his position away. He waited a beat before turning again, this time in the direction of the heavy footsteps that were approaching him. The smoke was clearing to reveal a slightly bedraggled Wolverine, newly lit cigar in hand. 

“I’d call that a day,” Logan told him, sounding much too satisfied. 

Scott took in Logan’s posture, the cool nonchalance of it as Logan smoked his cigar, and it took all of his willpower not to roll his eyes in exasperation. Not that Logan would have been able to see the action behind his visor, but the other man could no doubt read the fine line of tension in his body and sense the irritation rolling off of him in waves. 

“ _I_ decide when to call it a day,” Scott replied curtly, hating the note of petulance that had crept into his voice. “This is a siege scenario, Logan,” he continued, adopting his lecture tone. “You can’t break the line like that. It endangers the team.” 

“What team, Cyke? It’s you and me.” 

“We’re still a team,” Scott replied patiently. “That’s what we’re doing here, trying to improve our _teamwork_. If we can’t anticipate each other’s moves, learn how the other thinks, then we can’t work efficiently in the field.” 

He purposely left out the part about following orders. It was becoming an old argument between the two of them, one that they’d no doubt revisit again in the near future. _Baby steps_ , Scott reminded himself. Dealing with Wolverine was like dealing with a small child, a deadly child with the worst attitude in the world, but a child nonetheless. Never mind the years of military experience that Logan obviously exhibited and the countless commands he’d probably had to follow from those who had experimented on him. It was an easy enough explanation for Logan’s rebelliousness. The Wolverine was done following orders. Yet the Professor believed, for a reason that still eluded Scott that things would work out with Logan, that he could be a valuable member of their team. The field leader of the X-Men had too much faith in Charles Xavier to doubt him. If the Professor wanted to give Logan a chance, then Scott would do his best to incorporate Logan into the team, no matter how much it pained and aggravated him. Jean always told him he had the patience of a saint. 

“Anticipate each other’s moves?” Logan repeated, somewhat skeptically. “How’s this for starters? Why defend when you can attack?” 

“Because this is a siege scenario,” Scott repeated, his patience veering on condescension. “There’s a time to attack and there’s a time to defend.”

“You need to think out of the box,” Logan retorted, waving his cigar in Scott’s direction. 

“There’s no smoking in here,” Scott snapped, wrinkling his nose at the offending fumes. He knew he shouldn’t let Logan goad him, but the questioning of his strategizing skills stung more than he’d care to admit. Besides, Logan was missing the point. “Where on earth would you keep a cigar in your uniform anyway? It’s not like we have back pockets.” 

It was a question he probably shouldn’t have asked since Logan’s response was to leer at him in a suggestive way, giving him a quick head to toe appraisal that made him feel a tad self-conscious. He’d never noticed until Logan had arrived how form fitting their uniforms were. He’d always seen them as functional and practical. They’d been designed that way and they served their purpose well. But Logan made him acutely aware that he was in essence wearing tight black leather and the way Scott caught the other man blatantly staring at him from time to time made him think that Wolverine might have a leather fetish. It wouldn’t have surprised him, even as he found the whole matter deeply disturbing. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Logan said, closing the small distance between them. 

It took Scott a moment to realize that Logan had just answered his rhetorical question with one of his own. He held his ground, but a small sigh escaped him. “End simulation,” he called out. Instantly, the smoke and burning smell cleared and the familiar metallic walls of the Danger Room surrounded them. 

“Calling it a day?” Logan asked with an arch of an eyebrow. The question was only a half-taunt. Scott could hear the sincerity behind it as well. 

“Yeah, we’re calling it a day,” he agreed, turning away from the other man. “We’ll try this scenario again tomorrow,” he added, walking to the entrance. “With the rest of the team.” 

“Building _teamwork_ ,” Logan emphasized.

There was a gentle note of mocking there, but Scott didn’t take the bait. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that Logan hadn’t budged from his spot. 

“Yes,” he repeated. “To build teamwork.” _Because I am going to make you a part of this team even if it kills me_ , he mentally added, hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. 

He waited for the Danger Room doors to slide open at his proximity and when they didn’t, he opened the control panel on the left side and keyed in his code. The flashing light that greeted him surprised him and he keyed in his code a second time, in case he’d made an error during the first attempt. It was definitely the correct code but the red light denying his exit flashed back at him. Scott briefly looked back at the observation deck and control room located above the Danger Room, even though he knew that it would be empty. He’d reserved the room and programmed the simulation himself. There was no one monitoring them and he didn’t expect anyone to drop by. He sighed. It was that kind of day. 

“Problem?” Logan asked as he slowly approached the door. 

“Give me a minute,” Scott replied.

* * * * *

Logan watched as that preternatural stillness came over Summers, his head slightly bent as though he were listening to an unheard voice. Logan had come to associate the action with telepathy and though Summers was no telepath, he’d had plenty of experience with them. He had no doubt that the Boy Scout was radioing in for help to the Professor since Jean was out of town on a goodwill assignment.

“Problem?” Logan said again when Scott looked up. 

“We’re going to be here for a little while longer,” Scott explained, walking past him back to the center of the room. “Just checked in with the Professor. He says that everything outside is fine. The school isn’t under attack or anything like that but some of our computer systems are being a bit glitchy. The Danger Room is one of the affected areas. He’ll get us out of here as soon as possible.” 

Logan grunted in a non-committal fashion as he followed Summers back. He figured there’d be alarms blaring and flashing red lights if the school was in any kind of danger, unless the security system had been severely compromised and both the Professor and Cyclops didn’t think that was the case. It was disturbing to think that a safe haven such as the Xavier School for Gifted Children would be the target of any kind of attack, military or otherwise. Children were still children, even if they had mutant abilities. 

“Do you really have to smoke that?” 

Summers was looking right at him, hands on his hips. He reminded Logan of one of those hall monitors in high school who went around reporting other kids for breaking the rules. Summers looked like the hall monitor type. 

Logan purposely took an extra long inhale just to aggravate the other man, blowing out the smoke in neat concentric circles. “Not much else to do while waiting,” he replied. “Unless you have other ideas,” he added so casually that there was clearly nothing casual about the comment at all. 

His words had the desired effect and Summers looked away, but not before Logan caught the faintest blush tingeing one of those high cheekbones. They both knew precisely what activity had occupied them the last time they had been alone in this room together. That had been over a week ago, ten days to be exact. And yes, Logan had been counting the days, wondering how long it would take Cyclops to get over his lapse in control and have another one of these one-on-one sessions with him. 

Logan would be loath to admit it, but he’d gotten used to the one-on-one sessions with Cyclops. He even looked forward to them and not just because each session was an opportunity to further irritate the other man. Cyclops was a good fighter, far more experienced than his years would suggest and though he’d jabbed the field leader with his strategizing skills, Logan found Cyclops’ approach to the various scenarios to be more than effective. Cyclops _did_ think out of the box and he adapted quickly to the changing dynamics of a fight. Logan admired how cohesive the X-Men were and it all started with their field leader. 

Problem was, he wasn’t the type to fall in line so easily. It had been too long since he’d been part of a team. If he wanted anything done, it was easier to do it himself. Still, Cyclops’ perseverance towards him, while foolhardy, had earned his grudging respect. Perhaps there was even a part of him, deep, deep down and buried beneath all conscious thought, that wanted Cyclops to win their personal battle. What would it be like to be part of a team again? A team was like a pack, and in this instance, Wolverine didn’t envy (or want) the responsibilities of being the pack leader. 

“We could run the simulation one more time,” Scott suggested, but there wasn’t much conviction in his voice. “The A.I. is still taking voice commands . . . just not opening the door.” 

“I’ve had enough of simulations for one day,” Logan told him. 

Summers nodded. “I have as well,” he agreed. He looked at the floor for a long moment before he decided to sit down, knees tucked up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. 

_Geezus, the kid has no idea how to relax_ , Logan thought. He put out the cigar on the palm of his hand before joining Summers, stretching out in a sprawl on the Danger Room’s floor, his position the antithesis of Scott’s closed body language. 

“We ever gonna talk about it?” Logan suddenly said when the silence had stretched out for some time between them. Through his peripheral vision, he noted that Summers didn’t even flinch. The kid was as still and as unflappable as a statue. “Or are you still in the denial phase?” Logan went on. “Avoidance? Evasion? Oh, I forgot. You don’t avoid or evade. You repress.” 

The last comment finally got Summers to look at him. To his credit, Summers didn’t play dumb. “I thought you didn’t talk about your _feelings_ , Wolverine,” he stated. 

Logan snorted. “Who said this had anything to do with _feelings_?” he shot back, even though he knew it was a lie. There were _plenty_ of feelings involved in what had happened between them but hell would freeze over before Logan would admit that to the other man. 

The encounter with Summers had consumed his thoughts since it had happened and in the two missions that they’d been on since that time, he’d somehow found himself right beside Cyclops the moment anything went south. His reaction had been a combination of protection and back up, whatever Cyclops might need at that time. In fact, in both instances he’d come pretty darn close to being a ‘team player.’ Maybe that’s why Summers hadn’t given up on him. Jean had also looked at him strangely on occasion and Logan wondered how much of his jumbled thoughts he was projecting. He wondered if she knew, if Scott had told her himself. They looked like that sort of couple – trust, honesty and all that jazz that Logan sucked at so badly when it came to his own relationships. 

“Fight or fuck, Cyclops,” he stated. “ _That’s_ what happened the last time we were in this room.” 

“Seemed more like fight _and_ fuck to me,” Scott replied. 

Logan couldn’t help but grin at the off-handed nature of Scott’s reply, and the fact that it was the first time he’d ever heard the other man swear. 

“If that’s the case, there doesn’t seem like there’s much to talk about,” Scott continued in the same cool manner. 

“Sure there is,” Logan said in the most amiable way possible. He propped himself up on his elbows. “We gonna do that again?” 

Scott’s brow furrowed. “I don’t see what purpose that would serve,” he admitted. 

“Everything has to have a purpose?” 

“Yes.” 

Logan lay back down, hands behind his head as he gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully. “How about this?” he suggested. “My cooperation for your body? Hate sex is a good way as any to get those unhealthy repressions out.” 

There was a long silence before Scott said very quietly, “I don’t hate you, Logan.” 

“No?” 

“No.” 

“Why’d you do it then?” 

This time the silence lasted for so long that Logan was certain that Scott wouldn’t reply. 

“I wanted to,” Scott eventually admitted. “It was nice. Not the sex.” At Logan’s piercing look, Scott faltered briefly. “I mean, that was nice too,” he backtracked. “But what I really mean is, it was nice . . . not to be in control.” 

Understanding hit Logan like a sledgehammer and he’d pinned Summers to the floor before the other man could even react. He leaned over predatorily, inhaling the scent that had pervaded his dreams – dreams, not nightmares – for over a week. “You wanna give up control again?” he asked, his voice a low growl. 

Although Summers didn’t resist, even with his arms pinned there was nothing remotely placid about the way he lay underneath Logan. It wasn’t quite defiance either, just a calm sort of patience that Logan found both impressive and infuriating at the same time. 

“No,” Scott said firmly. 

Logan didn’t give an inch. It was impossible to see Scott’s eyes behind the visor, but he looked straight at where they would be and he knew the moment when Summers caved to his pressure to explain what he meant. 

“I’m not like you, Logan. It’s not fight or fuck for me. I don’t divorce sex from the feelings attached to it and if we kept doing this, it would lead somewhere.” 

Logan eased his grip and sat back, still straddling Summers but not quite putting his full weight on the other man. “Would that be so terrible?” he asked. 

Scott ran a hand through his hair, a sign of agitation. “I’d rather not find out,” he admitted. 

There were no double entendres, no hidden meanings in their words. This was the most honest they’d ever been with each other, a straight up conversation that wasn’t loaded with rancor or ill will. Logan didn’t think it was likely to happen again any time soon. 

“Does Jeannie know?” he pressed, deciding to push the envelope. 

“Yes,” Scott automatically replied. 

Logan nodded, but it was more to himself than in response to Scott’s answer. He’d suspected as much anyway. He had no follow up questions about Jean. She wasn’t the issue here, at least, not in his mind. This was just between them. Scott was shifting now, and Logan could tell that he meant to sit up. He eased back some more, allowing the other man to get to a sitting position, fully aware that their legs were virtually wrapped around each other and that he was practically sitting in Scott’s lap. Just this once, he didn’t think their Fearless Leader would boot him out. 

They were face-to-face now and Logan felt that this moment between them was far more intimate than anything they’d done the last time they alone were in the Danger Room together. This was more intimate than when he’d fucked Cyclops on the floor, more intimate than the blowjob he’d followed up with in the showers not long after. There had been one vital thing missing from that sexual encounter and the gaping hole it had left was gnawing at him. He reached out and grasped Scott under his chin before the other man could turn away. 

“Let me,” he said softly. Scott looked like he was about to shake his head, but Logan held him firmly. "This isn’t just about sex,” he continued, just as quietly. “Please,” he added, at Scott’s inscrutable expression. 

“It wouldn’t be wise,” Scott said, after what felt like a long second. 

“Never claimed to be a smart man,” Logan retorted, quickly leaning in and stealing a kiss before Scott could say anything else. 

Despite Scott’s objection, he didn’t resist. Instead, he was pliant beneath Logan’s touch, opening easily to the warmth of Logan’s invading tongue. Logan had meant to keep the kiss brief and chaste, the barest brush of lips against lips. It had begun that way, but a first kiss only happened once and Logan realized that it had to count, especially if he didn’t get another opportunity. The Boy Scout tasted just as Logan had imagined he would – sweet and fresh, like apple cider or apple pie – never mind that they’d spent nearly two hours in the Danger Room running and fighting the sims as well as each other.

There was no innocence to be found in that kiss, and Logan wondered why he had thought that would be so. Perhaps it was because Summers’ façade was so carefully crafted. He often thought of what it would be like to get under the other man’s skin, if the only way you could ever really know him was with the ability to read his mind. He couldn’t compete with Jean, not just with her telepathy (or the Professor’s for that matter), but also more importantly with all the years of love, trust and familiarity between them. He wondered too, when his attraction to Jean had shifted to Scott. Or had it been with Scott all along, buried somehow as Jean’s striking beauty and fierce intelligence caught his eye? He still constantly flirted with her, much to Summers’ chagrin, but she wasn’t the main reason that he stayed. As he ran his tongue through a final exploration of the other man’s mouth, regretful that he’d have to end the kiss because of the sheer need to draw breath, he wondered at last if Scott realized that he had just staked a claim. 

It was the sound of an insistent beeping that eventually had Scott pulling away and looking beyond Logan to the sealed Danger Room doors. Logan wasn’t willing to relinquish him yet, and he leaned into the other man, the hand that had been holding Scott’s chin now supporting the back of his neck as his other arm wrapped tightly around Scott’s waist. 

“The computer glitch must be fixed,” Scott told him. “Those doors are about to open.” 

Logan felt a pang of regret. The moment was slipping from his grasp and he could feel the Wolverine coming to the fore. 

“Afraid I’ll ruin your pristine reputation?” 

“I was thinking more that I’d ruin yours,” Scott replied, displaying the quick wit and sense of humor that many thought he didn’t possess. 

The beeping stopped and Logan could hear the almost silent sliding motion of the doors opening. Scott was moving again and although Logan’s first instinct was to keep him where he was, he didn’t prevent the other man from untangling himself and standing up. Logan didn’t move from his spot on the floor as he gazed up at the man that had made his life so unnecessarily complicated. 

Scott held out a hand and after a moment Logan grasped it, allowing the other man to pull him to his feet. He held on to Scott’s hand longer than was necessary, forcing the other man to look at him. 

“We’re not done here,” Logan said in a low voice. 

Scott’s expression was impassive, unreadable once more behind the cool mask of Cyclops. He nodded briefly before he released Logan’s hand. 

“Scott. Logan.” Ororo’s voice cut through the moment. “Are you both all right? The Professor told me you two were stuck down here.” 

“We’re fine, Ororo,” Scott assured her, moving past Logan and toward the open doors where Ororo was waiting. “How are the computer systems?” 

“All functioning normally. It doesn’t look like a cyber attack but we’re still running diagnostics,” Ororo explained, bringing Scott up to speed. “Jean just got back as well and she has some news to report. The Professor wants to see us,” Ororo continued, easily falling into step beside Scott. “You too, Logan,” she added, stopping and looking back at him when it was clear that Logan wasn’t following. 

Scott stopped as well. “Logan will be there,” he said, looking straight at the other man. 

Logan pulled out his unfinished cigar and re-lit it, noticing how Ororo crinkled her nose in distaste. She wasn’t a fan of his smoking either. He took a deep puff, exhaling the smoke in Cyclops’ direction. 

“After you, One-Eye,” he replied. 

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> The merry mutants belong to Marvel and Fox. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
